“Macedonia and Following Tractor Trails and Donkey Tails”

• August 19, 2020
• By Daryl
• 0 Comment

Dusty trails and bumpy roads wind us through land with the brightest skies and cumulus clouds. A monastery with deep history draws us to an adventurous destination. Castles have me looking for Dragon scales that fell off in battles with knights and serfs. All the corn fields have me concerned for the Bunnies of the Corn. Sunflowers taking their face away from the Sun, blinded by directly gazing at the sky. Tobacco drying, paying forward to fixing addictions of so many. Water flowing in a constant change, from vapor, rain, snow and ice. The circle of life goes on.

Our goal is a lakeside monastery and our lady of the maps, sends us on every changing directions, with her constantly switching lefts and right. She sounds like the media, with ever changing truths. But we drive on, undeterred by mixed messages. 

We drive, following directions into a village, then back out again. Only to return two more times, then to the ends of pavement into ruts so deep we could bottom out. Concerned, we walk up the hill, following our lady of the maps directions. After two miles, she tells us only 600 feet more, but from the crest of the hill, nothing is revealed. 

A man rides up with a donkey and pulling a horse, it seemed backwards to us but what do we know.

I am in the midst of stealing some grapes for my breakfast, but I hear a motor coming down the road. I run back to Bunny across dirt piles in the plowed field. (Okay, I know, it’s more like hobbling). A tractor rides up with a husband and wife, and they know of the Monastery, but do not English. They lower a cage and coaxed us to climb on. Soon they take us down the hill to our car, we are thinking they will show us the way to the Monastery. I follow Bunny in our car, as she is bouncing in the back of the tractor, on the way to the people’s home. We are invited in for coffee and a mix of homemade juice, watermelon, and jars of peaches and chips. Then they bring out some bigger and better grapes from their field. 

We spend warm moments with their family, trying to communicate. What we understood was a family enthralled with the two Americans, and, of course to us, the knowledge that we met some Angels of Macedonia was the highlight

We drive to our next town and see a sign for a castle. We brake for castles, as I still wanted to secretly find some Dragon scales. We drive into a little villages, past farm houses and brick barns. Down the path a herd of fat cattle ramble along with their wrangler; a dog, following up from behind.  They all knew where they were going and the dog was making sure they all stayed together. 

Soon, a castle can be seen up on top of the hill, overlooking the town, Strumica, below. The climb up to the castle was difficult and most of the walls and buildings have crumbled, right along with the stair steps. The castle reins from the twelve century. An Archeological dig went down about twelve feet, so no signs of dragons anywhere.

We made our way, on to Strumica and secured a room for the night and had pizza, again. 

The rain was back, dancing on the roof, serenaded by thunder in the distance. We slept good, knowing we were dry, and safe from the storm.